the beauty of the 'macabre'...

I was in a cab, driving through a graveyard…beige old low buildings with iron gates and yellowish lights in the dark serenity…and I was wine-tasting the word 'macabre'…And (maybe because I'm in a positive state of mind these days) I couldn’t find the brutality of that word.
I enjoy driving through that peaceful street, which is something I've been doing every day for a good amount of days now….
Then I saw a car pulling another broken-down car through that street…and what suddenly caught my attention was that the junction between the car was not a rope, but a human being…sitting on the rear of the first car, pulling the other with his legs affixed to its bumper rod…I felt the excitement of the discovered simplicity in it…the satisfaction with the minimum, the creative problem-solving and out-of-the-boxish behavior …
This country has its unique kind of beauty…it lies not in its sights…in the usual sense of the word…it's those other sights you won't see in some other 'developed' country…there's a different kind of 'development' here…some sort of wisdom, depth, virtue, subtle, humble beauty…like the 'macabre'; and the word…I am proud of its Arabic origin, for no tangible reason.